The Other Potter Child
by Amalfia88
Summary: If a two married 20 year olds are willing to get pregnant and have a child, what are the chances that they wouldn't be willing  or just shoddy enough at contraceptive  to have a second one? What if there was another Potter child?  This is her story...


_**June 21**__**st**__**, 1981**_

_The steady rhythm of raindrops had lulled the young boy asleep. His father's arms held him securely, creating a makeshift barrier against the bright lights. A loud crash of thunder jolted the father, but the child remained asleep._

"_She's not here yet," the father quietly mumbled to himself, holding his son a little bit closer. Anxiety was etched into the man's body, but that wasn't unusual for a hospital waiting room. _

_Alone in the room, the father would look forlornly towards a pair of doors, which would occasionally swing open to reveal a small hallway and the sound of babies crying._

_He couldn't help but think back to that fateful day nine months ago. He had been playing with his son, while his wife had gone to run some errands. Being constantly on the run was starting to take its toll on the small family. As much as he wanted to be able to protect them, he was starting to believe that their only hope would be to follow Albus' plan and go into hiding. At least then they wouldn't have to live out of a suitcase. All of the sudden he felt the wards go down before the appointed time. Grabbing Harry he was about to apparate, when his wife burst in tears streaming down her face. Seeing no one behind her, he hid Harry behind his back and trained his wand on her._

"_What is your biggest fear?" he shouted at her, the wand shaking in his grip. The question was one they had agreed to use in case they were ever infiltrated._

_As the seconds dragged on into years, she looked at him through the tears, and she whispered, "loosing them." He didn't think he would ever forget how she looked in that moment, as if she was talking to his very soul._

"_Who? Goddammit, are you Lily?" he roared, torn between wanting to go comfort the woman he loved and fearing a possible trap._

_The soft tick tock of a clock snapped him back to reality and was the only sign that time was passing. Finally, just as the clock struck midnight, the doors swung open and a larger nurse with frazzled hair waddled into the room._

"_Mr. Potter, please follow me," the nurse called out._

_The father, carrying the still sleeping boy, quickly passed the nurse down the hall, and hesitantly opened the door. Slowly peeking around the corner, his fears were quickly dissipated._

_Lying in a small hospital bed was an exhausted, but happy looking woman. Her long red hair was plastered to her head and her brilliant green eyes looked down at the small bundle in her arms._

"_Are you okay? Is the baby okay?" asked the father._

"_We're both okay," replied the woman, "I told you there was nothing to fear. Muggles aren't barbarians."_

"_I know," he answered remorsefully, " I just wish we were at St. Mungo's, or at least with a healer. I can't help but worry that something was going to happen."_

_Squeezing his hand gently, the woman looked up at him. "Do you want to hold her?" she asked tentatively. Switching bundles, the new father reverently took the smaller of the two. As thunder and lightening rocked the small hospital window, the newborn opened her eyes and the father gasped in surprise. Staring up at him were the most brilliant violet eyes he had ever seen._

"_I know her eyes are a strange colour," the woman remarked while cuddling her other child. "You don't think it means something do you?"_

"_I've never heard of anyone having this colour," he replied unsure. "Perhaps we should ask Albus." Seeing the worried expression on his wife's face, he quickly added, "don't worry Lily I'm sure it's nothing."_

"_Have you thought of a name?" he asked trying to distract her._

"_I was thinking Iris Evelyn Potter," she replied._

"_It's perfect." _

**Ten years and one month**** later…**

In an unremarkable part of Surrey, in a row of houses with unremarkable people, a young girl with remarkable violet eyes was silently trying to finish the last touches on her masterpiece – a card she had made her brother, Harry, and a small book she had salvaged from her cousin's paws. It was her Harry's birthday, and for as long as she could remember they had only ever celebrated their birthdays between the two of them. It was their special secret and she couldn't wait to see her brother's face when he received her gift. A few days ago it had been her birthday and he had managed to get her a purple barrette for her hair.

"Girl," her aunt shrilled, "you better be almost finished cleaning the top floor. If I catch you daydreaming one more time, you'll be sorry!"

The young girl sighed heavily and quickly put away her creation to the secret compartment of their shared bedroom. She returned to putting away the last few things in her Aunt and Uncle's room.

"Almost finished," she replied, "I'll be right down Aunt Petunia."

She couldn't help but envy her brother a little even though he had to work in the sun and get dirty doing the garden work, at least he didn't have their horse-faced aunt breathing down his neck at every turn.

After their parents' death, their mother's sister and her husband had taken in Harry and her. Their Aunt Petunia was a nosey woman who loved any type of gossip, who was married to their Uncle Vernon, a whale of a man who disliked his niece and nephew even more than his wife. They also had a son, Dudley, who regularly terrorized his cousins with his gang of neighbourhood bullies.

She couldn't wait until the day when Harry and her would run away. Even though her relatives daily told her and her brother how useless they were, she knew they were special. It was a known fact that strange things happened around the Potter siblings, especially when they were upset, and for that reason all the children of the neighbourhood stayed away from them.

After heaps more of chores and scolding from her Aunt, she plopped down wearily on the bed beside her brother. They once again had been given meager leftovers and after all their chores were exhausted.

"God, I hate summer!" she whispered.

"I know Iris," he mumbled sleepily into the bed, "At least we have each other." With that her brother gently took her hand and the both drifted off to sleep, their intertwined fingers only slightly hinting at the closeness between the two. After all, as Harry said, they were all each other had.

**6 days later…**

The wind was howling throughout the entire shack and Iris snuggled closer to her brother. It was too noisy to sleep and she couldn't help but think that this had to be Harry's worst birthday yet. Between these strange letters and Uncle Vernon dragging them out here, Iris decided that it was time. With that in mind, as they watched Dudley's watch countdown the minutes to midnight she dug out the small birthday gift she had managed to stow away even to this wretched little island.

"Happy Birthday Harry," she whispered quietly, "It's probably a little wet and I know it's not quite your birthday just yet but I wanted you to have this."

She passed him her gift and he carefully took off the newspaper that she had decorated and used as wrapping paper. His smile at seeing the card and his gift made her insides warm, even though it was freezing.

A loud banging sound ended their special moment, as the two children huddled in the corner of the dingy hut.

For the rest of her life, Iris would look back on this moment. When her brother and her had clung to one another, held together by a mixture of apprehension and excitement, waiting to see what lay behind the door. Never in their wildest imaginations, could they have predicted what lay on the other side. At the time they did not realize that this was the beginning of their new lives, barging in, and forever transforming the course of their destinies...


End file.
